


Insatiable

by snappdragon



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Oneshot, Quickie, Sanji x Zoro, Smutty oneshot, sanzo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snappdragon/pseuds/snappdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you ever have one of those days where you are horny to the point of distraction?</p>
<p>Sanji was having one of those days. Well… more like he was having one of those weeks. And it was starting to become a problem.</p>
<p>A smutty oneshot. Sanzo</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insatiable

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own One Piece.

Do you ever have one of those days where you are horny to the point of distraction?

Sanji was having one of those days. Well… more like he was having one of those weeks. And it was starting to become a problem.

It first started when the crew reunited at Sabaody. Actually, it probably started before then-- living with a bunch of okama had definitely built up a need after two years-- but Sanji had been sure the issue had been resolved thanks to the beautiful mermaid princess. However, once that adventure had been completed, things seemed to go back to normal for the Straw Hat cook, that is, as normal as things could get for a woman loving gentleman such as himself. But soon after leaving Fishman Island, his libidio returned with a vengeance. 

Basically, Sanji craved sex. And by the 6th day, his mind could make anything become sexual. An elegant hair flip by Nami, or an amused chuckle from Robin, could cause a hard-on that would rival one of the mosshead’s swords. At one point, kneading dough had sent his mind skittering to memories of ample breasts and plump bottoms. He almost could not finish meal prep. There might had been another moment when one of Usopp’s experiments ended with a bang, but Sanji had managed to block that particular event, except for the traces of trauma that had remained.

The one silver lining, that he was clinging to, was the fact that the nosebleeds had not come back. Blood stains were hard to remove and Sanji really could not afford to replace more of his wardrobe. However, a part of him was beginning to miss the bursts of blood, since they were at least some form of release. And he desperately needed release. The constant state of high arousal had long ago begun to wear on him. He had, of course, tried to get rid of the issue manually but, no matter what tricks he tried, he never came. This did not leave him with many options. A cold shower would usually give him a bit of a reprieve, or he would wait until his body got distracted, but otherwise Sanji was stuck with an almost constant hard-on. 

The eighth day was following the new pattern. Sanji woke up, earlier than usual, to take a cold shower and start a quick load of laundry. His clothes may not have been ruined and stained with blood, but he was definitely going through them quickly thanks to his vivid wet dreams. Though he supposed that ‘nightmares’ would be a better word since the dreams only served to make him wake up feeling even more exhausted and horny. 

He trudged towards the galley, avoiding the halls that one of the ladies might frequent in the early hours of the morning. Bumping into Robin-chwan or Nami-swan would force him to go back to repeat action one, and he really needed to start preparing breakfast. 

A cigarette was lit the moment he stepped onto the deck of the Sunny, his hands starting to tremble from pure need. He scowled at his twitching fingers, fingers that were barely holding onto his smoke, and once again cursed his situation. With a frustrated growl, Sanji stormed into the kitchen, trying and failing to ignore the way his pants rubbed against his half-hard member. He forced himself to shift his attention to cooking breakfast, but even that was a stressful event. Over the past few days, he had been coming up with elaborate meals in an effort to keep himself distracted. Unfortunately, that plan had backfired since it put a sizeable dent in their food supply. 

To combat this, Sanji needed to try and cook something simple.  _ Omelets are simple _ , he reasoned, eyelids drooping with weariness. 

Sanji pulled the eggs out from the fridge, and forced himself to get to work. His mind buzzed with the proper steps to make the perfect omelet, something he had done a million times. However, just as Sanji was about to let his brain shift into autopilot, he found himself staring at the cracked egg before him. It had two yolks, floating side by side and, instead of thinking of his good fortune, images of breasts exploded before Sanji’s eyes. He choked on a groan as his cock stiffened in his pants, reminding him that it was still craving attention, and with a half growl, half whimper, Sanji smashed at the egg with a spatula.  _ Scrambled eggs are simple _ .

Sanji was sweating by the time breakfast was finished and set on the table. Things had only gotten worse as the morning had gone on, and he was beginning to question the innocence of his kitchen. He lit himself his seventh cigarette since he had woken up, and stepped outside as the rest of the crew stumbled into the galley, half asleep and unaware of their cook’s fraying sanity. He managed to greet the ladies with his usual flourish but, once the door closed behind him, he curled over the railing and tried not to grip at his throbbing crotch. 

He ran a hand through his damp hair, chills running down his spine when the morning breeze tickled at his neck. A pleasurable shiver spread from the faint contact, and a groan nearly slipped out from between his lips. Sanji clapped a hand over his mouth in shock.  _ The wind, too?!  _ He glared at his crotch in frustrated disgust and desperately gripped at the railing with white knuckled fists. After a few deep breaths, with Sanji intensely focused on inhaling and exhaling smoke, his pants looked like they fit him once again. 

“What’s with you, shit-cook?” A voice rumbled to his right.

With a short gasp, Sanji whipped his head around, his heart racing and eyes wide with shame, shame that quickly turned to irritation. Zoro. Of course it was Zoro. The one who would tease him the most about getting a hard-on from the weather. The swordsman stood in nothing but his pajama pants, face lax from sleep. He did not seem to have noticed Sanji’s intimate moment with the wind, however, a look of confusion flashed in his dark eye when Sanji did not respond right away. 

“-- What’s with me?! What’s with YOU, lazy-swordsman?!” Sanji squawked, face blushing with embarrassed rage, “Go eat the food I made you before I kick your ass to the next island!”

“Tch. Whatever, curly,” Zoro yawned, scratching at his neck as he brushed passed Sanji and into the galley.

The brief touch caused all of the blood to drain from Sanji’s face and rush south, much to his horror. He stared wide eyed at the marimo’s retreating back, mind beginning to shut down from the flood of thoughts. But even when the cause of his panic had disappeared, the cook could not get himself to relax. 

If Sanji was being honest, it really was not all that surprising that his body had reacted to the greenhaired bastard. Before the crew had been separated for those two years, the two had had a relationship of sorts. It had just been sex, but it had been really, really  _ good _ sex. And apparently his body remembered it. The only issue was that neither had attempted to restart the convenient, and pleasurable, partnership. Even now, with his dick standing to attention, Sanji’s pride refused to be the first to ask, especially since he was still recovering from training in okama hell. At least those memories did not give him a hard-on.

He spat out his crushed cigarette and stomped on it, nearly smashing his foot through the deck in the process. His cock had begun to ache again, each throb bringing to mind memories of Zoro’s hands on his body, or  _ in _ his body, and the blonde cook found himself fleeing to the bathroom for another much needed cold shower.

\--

The next day passed in the same fashion as the previous eight, and by the time dinner was over and the galley had been cleaned up, Sanji was a horny mess. He was quite proud of himself for keeping it together throughout the meal, and while Usopp had stayed to help with dishes, however, once the sniper had left, Sanji lost his composure. He growled in frustration, gripping the counter in an attempt to hold back a scream. His cock was throbbing, reminding him of his insatiable need, and his pulse could be heard pounding in his head. 

His only silver lining had been that the mossy bastard had not shown up to dinner. For some reason, Sanji’s dick was reacting more violently to Zoro than it was reacting to the ladies. This was a realization that Sanji had not really wanted, or needed, and was blatantly ignoring for the time being. Still, Zoro not being at the table, with his drool worthy muscles, and sexy smirk, was acknowledged as a small mercy. 

Sanji stared into the now empty sink, head hanging in exhaustion while his body felt like it had ingested an unhealthy amount of caffeine. Another jolt of arousal sang through him and he whimpered to himself. Another icy shower was past due, but before he could gather the mental strength to move, his focus was interrupted by the galley door opening. The cook glanced up, feeling too weary to do more than that, but also not wanting to turn and greet his guest with his half hard dick. 

To his horror, his guest was none other than the bastard swordsman himself. Sanji’s eye twitched in anger.  _ Why am I not surprised? _ His fists tightened on the sink, the counter creaking under his grip. Lust burned through him as his gaze raced over the other man, taking in every glorious, dick hardening detail. 

Naturally, Zoro was shirtless, wearing nothing but his pants, which hung low on his defined hips. He had obviously been working out, his muscles tight from use and shining with drying sweat. His green hair was messy, and Sanji watched as Zoro ran his fingers through the damp locks in an attempt to tame them. The blonde found his mind wandering, imagining himself gripping the green strands and pulling the other man’s mouth to himself so that he could satisfy the need to ravage something completely, and without concern for the consequences.

The single steely eye was watching him, curiosity and mild concern flashing through the seemingly bored gaze, “You’re looking a little crazy, cook. More so than usual. Did you finally crack?”

Sanji looked back at the sink, barely registering the words in his attempt to hold back a moan. The swordsman’s deep voice echoed in his skull, making the near constant throb even more difficult to tolerate. He bit his bottom lip harshly, eyes squeezing shut to try and drown out the muffled rumble of Zoro’s steps, another rhythm for his pulsating cock to cling to and mimic. Part of him just wanted to beg Zoro to take him like he once had, and damn his pride. The only reason he had not given in, and dropped to his knees before the bastard, was because his rage, at the entirety of the situation, was burning as hotly as his lust.

“Are you listening to me, baka?” Zoro asked as he stepped up behind the blonde. The swordsman reached out, grabbing at the other man’s shoulder, but before he could jerk the cook around to face him, Sanji’s control finally snapped.

Sanji was vaguely aware of his brain shutting down as he spun around, coming face to face with Zoro, who was looking at him in shock. However, Sanji saw little else before he closed his eyes and slammed his mouth against the parted lips with a fierce intensity. All of his pent up desire burst forth with an animalistic need that nearly knocked Zoro over. The only thing keeping the swordsman from falling was Sanji’s arms wrapped around the broad torso and gripping at the firm muscles of his back and ass. A groan tore its way out of the cook, and Zoro could not help but swallow the sound as Sanji’s tongue ravaged his mouth. 

The urgency of the kiss was not lost on Zoro, who could feel the other man’s hardness grinding into his own growing arousal. Sanji was feasting on him like a starving man would a banquet. Instead of questioning the cook’s sudden desire to pick up where they had left off, Zoro embraced it. He let Sanji take the lead, easily moving with the frenzied movements of the hungry blonde. He rocked back into the hand on his ass, feeling the grip tighten eagerly. The swordsman held onto the slender hips, slipping his hands under the wrinkled shirt to massage at the burning skin. 

It did not take long before bruising each other’s mouths no longer sufficed. Sanji pulled back, his vice-like grip shifting to the swordsman’s shoulders as he forced the man to turn. He slammed Zoro against the counter and pressed his aching member into the other man’s clothed ass. The blonde leaned forward, tongue and teeth latching onto the three golden earrings and moving up to bite down on the earlobe itself. Zoro gasped as the pain spiked straight to his cock, ripping a groan through his clenched teeth. Sanji did not seem to hear or notice the other man’s reaction, as he was purely focused on tasting the salty skin, and feeling up the hot body. 

Zoro braced himself against the counter, tired of the distracting feeling of the edge embedding itself into his stomach. He panted, glancing back over his shoulder when he felt the cook reach around to undo his pants and push them down to his thighs. Sanji was not wasting time. Letting his head hang again, Zoro allowed himself to sink back into the arousal that was overwhelming his mind. Each eager touch from Sanji sent chills throughout his body and made breathing even more difficult. However, when he felt a spit covered finger press against his entrance, his pleasure was distracted by the uncomfortable feeling of being entered. An unpleasant burn spread from the contact but Zoro easily ignored it, instead focusing on relaxing and allowing the intrusion. 

It had been a long time since Zoro had taken this position, and even when Sanji had fucked him before, it had only been a few times. Sanji had usually prefered to be on bottom, a fact that made their current situation even more interesting. Not that Zoro minded. Sanji was a good lover either way. However, no matter what was going on, it was clear that the cook needed this. It was not about affection, or even pleasure, but despite knowing that, Zoro was willing to let himself be used. 

“Cook, get the damn oil,” Zoro growled out, shifting forward to force the digit to slip out of his ass.

The cook hesitated, his hands trembling on the other man’s hips, but finally forced himself to step away. He returned with a small bottle of cooking oil and Zoro felt his heart began to race with anticipation. The sound of the cork popping brought back memories of wild blonde hair damp with sweat, and fair skin under callused fingertips. He remembered how it felt to have Sanji thrusting deep within him, or to bury himself in the cook with those strong legs wrapped around his waist. Zoro had to wonder why they had waited so long to continue this when they could have been experiencing a perfect combination of heat and lust.

Zoro moaned softly into his arm, rotating his hips so that the cook could easily press his fingers back inside. The stretch still burned, but the oil lessened the sensation of being ripped open. As his body adjusted, the uncomfortable feeling faded and was replaced by a tickling pleasure that had him pushing back against the cook’s hand with desire. 

Sanji bit down on the other man’s shoulder, eyes closed in ecstasy as the tight warmth of the swordsman overwhelmed his senses. But, while the sensation was too much for his sex addled mind to handle, it was not enough. It felt like his body was coming apart at the seams. His whole being was aching with the need to bury his cock into the other man and find relief in those hot depths of muscle and flesh. However, part of Sanji was still mentally aware that Zoro was a human being with feelings, and the blonde vaguely remembered that he did not want to hurt the other man. 

With that in mind, Sanji forced himself to add another finger, distantly aware of Zoro’s hiss as he scissored the digits inside. He knew his control would not last much longer, he could already feel it slipping as he removed his fingers from Zoro’s warmth. He hoped the preparation had been enough.

“I’m sorry, Zoro. I can’t wait anymore,” He murmured, hands continuing to tremble as they held onto the greenhaired man’s hips.

“Just do it,” Zoro growled in response, sensing the cook’s desperation. He opened himself to it, letting it spread into him until he felt his own need begging to be sated. 

The command had barely been processed before Sanji felt his lust roar through his body like a crushing wave. He quickly undid his own pants, taking down the last barrier between them as he finally freed his painful erection. He could not remember ever being this hard, and he could not help but whimper under his breath at the sight of Zoro’s prepared asshole. With his self-control down for the count, Sanji lost himself in his animalistic desire and pressed inside. He groaned as the impossibly tight heat enveloped him. Pleasure shot throughout his entire body, making the ache intensify until he was lost in it. Some part of him could hear Zoro grunting in pain, but Sanji could not stop himself from thrusting deeper, desperation spurring him on. Each inch gained was closer and closer to satisfying the lust that clawed at the blonde’s insides, the beast that had been driving him closer and closer to insanity for the past nine days. He  _ needed _ this.

With a particularly forceful thrust, Sanji sheathed himself within Zoro’s ass, and the swordsman gasped out at the sensation of being completely filled. The pain screamed from his backside but the discomfort was dulled by the intense feeling of Sanji’s cock rubbing against his prostate with each hasty movement. He growled hotly when that spot, deep within him, was struck head on, sending a powerful burst of pleasure up and down his spine. 

There was no niceties, no attempts at mutual pleasure. Sanji was lost in his own lust, and Zoro was nothing more than a vessel for relief, though, he had no doubt that he was helping save the other man’s sanity. The past week, he had watched the cook grow more distant and exhausted. If he had known sex was the issue, he would have offered his ass a long time ago. He was happy to help the blonde, but that did not change the fact that he had own hard-on to deal with. 

Zoro slipped one hand down to grab his own arousal, his other arm braced firmly against the counter. The tightness of his fingers around his shaft sent sparks flying behind his closed eye, and he stroked himself slowly, paying close attention to Sanji.. 

Sanji was close. He gripped hard onto Zoro’s waist, holding him steady as he pounded deep within the muscled ass. The slick walls massaged rhythmically at his cock, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Like a light at the end of a tunnel, Sanji could finally see the release he had been craving for so long. His body reached for it, slamming into Zoro uncaringly as he blindly raced towards that climatic pleasure. His mind was lost in it, overwhelmed by the heat, the tightness that stroked him and sent electric jolts through his cock. His thrusts became more urgent and wild as Sanji forced himself within the swordsman again and again. He was almost there, his teeth baring against the mounting pressure in his gut.

Suddenly, Zoro clenched around him, his muscles spasming and tightening in a way that would have driven Sanji mad if it had not pushed him to the peak of his lust. With an explosion of white, Sanji came. All of the pent up lust released and spilled within Zoro, while Sanji collapsed against the other man’s back. The world blurred around him, and all sounds seemed muted as the blonde faded in and out of consciousness, his body floating on the waves of orgasm. 

When he finally began to regain a sense of awareness, time speeding back up to normal, Sanji relished in the calm that had spread throughout his body. He felt even more exhausted, but it was the type of exhaustion that could be helped by a good night's sleep. A tired smile pulled at his lips as he realized that his lustful hell was finally over. He could breath again. 

However, the state of relaxation was quickly ruined when he remembered that he was still settled in the wet warmth of Zoro’s ass. He hesitated, unsure of how the swordsman would react to his sudden attack. He could hear the other man panting softly, appearing to be coming down from his own high.  _ That’s a good sign. _ Sanji slowly pulled out, wincing as his oversensitive flesh complained at the movement. He stepped back, releasing his grip on the now bruised hips, and cautiously began to do up his pants. Blue eyes watched the other man from behind golden fringe, awaiting Zoro’s reaction. 

Zoro remained leaning against the counter for a moment more before shifting to an upright position. His own pleasure was fading too quickly for his liking, leaving him with an aching backside and the need to nap. He frowned at the sensation of Sanji’s come leaking from his ass, but went ahead and pulled his pants up. Glancing back at Sanji, he raised a questioning brow. “Feel better, baka cook?”

The blonde ran a hand through his hair, smiling awkwardly, “Yeah…”

“Next time,” Zoro growled as he finished buttoning his pants, “don’t let it get that bad. Moron.” He walked passed the cook, ignoring the pain in his rear, and pushing through the slight limp. “I need a shower.”

Sanji watched the other man open the door, guilt and embarrassment beginning to eat away at him. Had he gone too far? Sure, he had been rough, but it was  _ Zoro. _ Something like that should not have even phased him. Though he did feel bad for using the marimo bastard, even if he annoyed the fuck out of him on a good day. If Sanji could have kept better control of himself, perhaps he could have found a way to deal with the issue without abusing one of his nakama. 

He was suddenly aware of how much he did not want to ruin this, whatever it was, between him and Zoro. The cook had been denying it for weeks, but had he realized it too late? Would Zoro even want to look at him again? 

“Hey,” Zoro grunted, and Sanji looked up to find Zoro staring at him with an annoyed frown, “You comin’ or what?”

Zoro still wanted him. The gruff words were as much of an admittance as he was going to get, but they were more than enough for the cook. Relief swept through Sanji and he allowed himself to breathe normally once more. He still felt bad, but he could make it up to the swordsman. Perhaps he could return the favor after Zoro took his usual, post-sex nap. Sanji was happy to feel a normal amount of lust perk up at the idea, but he kept his pleasurable purr to himself.

Instead, Sanji growled in irritation, despite his excitement, and snapped at the other man, “Oh, shut up. I’m coming. Gotta make sure you don’t get lost on your way to the bathroom.”

“What’d you say, asshole?!”   
  


“You heard me! And who are you calling an asshole, asshole?!”

“You are most definitely the asshole here,” Zoro growled as they both headed towards the bathroom, “My aching ass is the proof.”


End file.
